


sweetest kind of hell

by honeybunny101



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8484679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybunny101/pseuds/honeybunny101
Summary: It had been 6 months since the decision was made and Bucky woke up every day to the sound of chickens on a hard bed at the far end of the servants’ corridor at the Rogers Estate for quite a time now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic. Please be gentle. All mistakes are mine.

Chapter One  
Bucky wasn’t fond of surprises. He’s had enough of them in the army and the one time he wasn’t prepared for it cost him his left arm. Frankly, he was sick of it. He wanted nothing more than to retire in a sleepy town and live quietly. Unfortunately for him, Becca—his twin sister, was having none of it. She got him to therapy, paid for his flat in Brooklyn and gave him a job at her company as an accountant.  
He hated it.  
It wasn’t like he didn’t try. He wasn’t completely useless at his new job; he had a degree before shipping off to the army. It also wasn’t so bad that the CEO of the company was his sister; people didn’t dare say anything about his suspiciously gloved hands.  
He was just simply tired of it all. There had been a time when he thought his life couldn’t go wrong. His family had money, though not as much as when his sister took over the previously small family business. There had been a time when he had his life all planned out. And surprise, surprise! It all went to hell.  
Which was why, he went and decided it was time for things to turn around.  
***  
It had been 6 months since the decision was made and Bucky woke up every day to the sound of chickens on a hard bed at the far end of the servants’ corridor at the Rogers Estate for quite a time now.  
Becca had been enraged. Luckily, Bucky had been clever enough to make his escape beforehand and half way to his destination, he’d finally picked up his phone to listen to her furious shouting over the safe end of the line.  
It was a fresh and new start, making him breathe easier since waking up on a hospital bed with a missing left arm. Bucky had been on his new job for almost 5 months now and it was the best decision he’s made in all his life. Admittedly, he’s always been shit at making decisions before.  
Finding the job was a lucky streak, timing and all. The Rogers’ Estate wanted to hire a new head gardener and Bucky had been lucky enough to know about the occupation to drop in his resume. The ad was written on the morning newspaper and Bucky was an old-fashioned soul who subscribed to them on regular. Also because it drove Becca absolutely nuts.  
Naturally, the Rogers’ Estate was huge just like all estates. Bucky had been awestruck the whole time he was toured around the place. Helen, the housekeeper, had been amused. The mansion (a fucking mansion) had two stories, over 60 rooms and the entrance hallway was bigger than his childhood home. The grounds were vast, the gardens and fountains were magnificent and there was a big stable on the Far East ground to house the livestock.  
The place was absolutely marvelous. Bucky immediately loved it. With the old bricks, the Victorian chandeliers, the gorgeous gardens and antique furniture, he felt transported in time. He couldn’t believe the place existed in Upper New York, way out in the middle of nowhere. Mansions and old country houses for him existed only in movies. The place wasn’t easy to maintain even with a number of staff and Bucky had been amused to see one of the house maids’ vacuum a carpeted sitting room, the piece of modern technology looked out of place.  
The staff had been wary of him the first week he was there and he couldn’t blame them. He wasn’t comfortable with talking to people anymore and his metal arm didn’t add to his charm. The arm was a courtesy of Stark Industries, silver and menacing in harsh light. Tony’s explanation about the mechanics went over his head but he was thankful.  
When Helen finally coaxed him into telling them what happened, her eyes went soft and she gave him a hug.  
“Thank you for your service.” She murmured softly to his ear and Bucky had hugged her right back.  
The next week after that, everybody seemed to treat him differently in a nice way. Timmy, a house boy, had spilled the beans on what was going on and that was when Bucky first heard the story about the young master of the house.  
Apparently, the man was Captain in the army and had to retire early in his service to take over the family business. The man lived in the city now and wasn’t often home to run the multi-billion industry.  
It was clear that everyone loved the master of the house. Helen had endless compliments on the man and everybody referred to him with admiration in their tone. As a new member of the staff, Bucky couldn’t help but partake on the respect they gave the man. He sounded like a good master.  
Timmy had also revealed that the man had serious PTSD after his time in the army. All men who went to war did. Bucky had been through loads of therapy to get over his. Bad nights come every now and then but it’s been less since he started working at the estate. It was sweet of them to understand but he’d have preferred for them to act normal.  
The Roger’s family was old money, Bucky had been told. They were very private and not the type of people who lived a celebrity life. Their ancestors took part in the government but sometime in the last century they preferred to stay out of the public’s eyes. Their businesses were based overseas and only a chosen few family friends were invited to their ancestral home. Helen had tried to go over the history of the family dating back the 18th century but Bucky had blanked out halfway through the story. He wasn’t very fond of history as it would seem.  
***  
Working as a gardener was the last thing everybody expected of Bucky which was why he wanted the job in the first place. He’d tended to his aunt Moira’s gardens all his life and it was the most relaxed atmosphere he’d always liked since childhood. Plants were easy to understand and they were good company. He’s yet to meet a plant in his life that was a bad listener.  
Philip, the previous head gardener of the house, was a stubborn old man who refused to leave the job to him without strict instructions on how to tend to the grounds. His granddaughter had insisted on his retirement because of his rheumatism but he was welcome to stay in the estate to facilitate on the ground maintenance. Bucky was just basically his errand boy, giving orders on the most ridiculous things from scrubbing the blackened moors on the fountains to giving the old man’s shoulders a rub.  
If there was anything Bucky was good at, it was following orders. He was from a military family, his dad and his grand dad served in wars and so did he. Old man Philip’s orders were relatively mild compared to what he was used to in the army. Although he’d been surprised the man had let him touch him with the metal arm. People he met were either very careful not to look at his left arm or they constantly eyed it as if their eyes were magnetized.  
Philip took one look at him and his left arm and promptly demanded Bucky to lift an absurdly large brick stone to a position. Bucky had done it with little difficulty and Philip had nodded in approval. The young man visibly preened at the appreciation.  
That had been the start of the endless ordering around and Bucky, eager to please, had followed every single one of them. The theatrics seem to amuse everyone to no end.  
“He really likes you, doesn’t he?” Helen had said to him, smirking as she handed him a hefty plate of sandwiches. “He never lets anyone near his Damask roses but he lets you.”  
Bucky had been taken aback because that was the first thing he was ordered to tend to after the brick stone fiasco.  
“I don’t know about that.” Bucky replied with doubt. “He’s still sore about his “forced retirement”. Beth kept bugging me on about his vitamins and he cursed at me when I handed him his medicine.”  
Beth had been texting him non-stop about his grandfather and Bucky was given the task of not only tending to the gardens but also the care of the stubborn old man. It was a real task to make him take his morning meds but Bucky only had to be silent for a few minutes as the old man ranted and hand him a glass of water before he relented. It was an established routine after a month.  
“Well, he still takes them, doesn’t he?” Helen said knowingly and nudged him out of the kitchen to deliver the sandwiches to the pond where the old man was waiting.  
It wasn’t perfect, Bucky still had to wake up in cold sweat once in awhile and he still flinched every time there was a sudden sound. But it was better than his life at the city where he barely kept up with the rest of the society. The estate was a safe haven for a guy who wants a simple life and away from the competitive world.  
***  
The first time he rode a horse was when he was eleven, at a school tour. It was exhilarating and he never wanted to get of the magnificent beast’s back. But the tour was ending and his teacher had to force him to part with his new friend. It had been awful saying goodbye to the gentle animal. Bucky continued to visit the farm to see the horse for years after that and when it died with old age, Bucky had been devastated.  
There were three at the Rogers’ Estate and Bucky was absolutely ecstatic to meet them. Hamish, Denver and Jacques were beautiful, strong and healthy breeds. Hamish and Denver were a bit touch-starved; they kept on butting their heads on Bucky’s hands to be petted. Jacques had been proud and wouldn’t let Bucky near him at first. Bucky discovered eventually that carrots did the trick for all three of them.  
Murray was in charge of the few livestock on the estate. He lived in town, a few minutes drive from the estate and only came once a week to do the occasional check up. He was a paid veterinarian and had a clinic running up in town. Gareth, Helen’s nephew, fed and took care of the animals on a daily basis.  
The horses were kept healthy by the vet and Gareth but they didn’t know how to ride them. And these animals were made for riding, they weren’t meant to be kept on a leash or stuck in a barn. Bucky took it upon himself to do the task. (Which wasn’t really a task, more like a privilege.)  
The first time he took one of the horses for a run was like learning how to ride a bicycle all over again. It was equal parts exhilarating and frightening. He hadn’t ridden since he was shipped off overseas a few years ago. But his body remembered what his mind forgot and it also helped that Jacques was re-learning his training likewise. They spent the afternoon learning each other and by the end of it, Bucky had toured the grounds a few times. It was marvelous to see the place on horseback.  
Several of the staff had gaped at him when he dismounted the horse at the back door of the dirty kitchen where they ate, and he had smirked at their dumbstruck faces as he tied the leash of the horse just outside. He still hated surprises but it was fun to watch people’s faces when he surprised them.  
Helen had stood to meet him on the door, still gaping at him. “Are you sure you’re just a gardener, James?” She asked with a disbelieving look on her face.  
Bucky shrugged and grinned at her. “I have many talents.”  
Helen raised an eyebrow at him dubiously but rolled her eyes. “Do tell us about these talents. I’m sure you’re very eager to brag about them.”  
Bucky laughed and shook his head. “It’s a secret.”  
She laughed at the teasing tone of his voice and dragged him inside to bribe him with food to reveal his hidden blue blood identity.  
***  
Bucky’s life at the estate fell into a routine.  
Every day he would wake up at 6 am, take his meds dry and shower with cold water to full alertness. He would go take his breakfast at the back kitchen with the rest of the staff before facing Philip’s ranting and help him take his own morning meds. Then he goes to the greenhouse behind the house to water the seedlings and potted plants, transferring the month-old stalks of imported tulips to separate boxes for easy transport. Another week and they would start budding; Bucky had to transfer them to the empty soil beds for more sun. Tending to the plants would take him the whole morning and it’s a good thing he had help from Gareth in letting the horses out to graze because he can’t keep an eye on them all the time.  
Cleaning the grounds was the most exhausting part of the day after tending the plants. It was almost fall and the leaves were being a pain in the ass. He’d started his job mid-spring so the plants were blooming with flowers all over the place; he just had to keep them hydrated. He had no idea how to run the place during winter. Good thing Philip was there for instructions he seemed to enjoy giving Bucky.  
Riding the horses was his favorite task of the day. He would take them around the area and take turns in giving them exercises to keep their muscles in good shape. It was fun to ride the m around and let his mind float into instincts on stirring the creatures.  
Bucky was elbow-deep in mud while transferring the magnolias to the beds on the front porch when Gareth came running from the back of the house.  
“Bucky! Helen wants to see the staff in the kitchen immediately. She’s got news.” He panted and was visibly vibrating with excitement.  
“All of us? Should I get Philip?” Bucky straightened from his crouch and wiped his palms on his dirt rag. He must look like a sight, with his dirty arms and his jeans caked with dried mud from all the kneeling. He’s certain there were dirt streaks on his face and neck too.  
“Philip’s there now. The rest of the outdoor staff is on their way. Let’s go!”  
“Okay, okay. Cool down, hot shot, geez.” Bucky chuckled and made his way down the porch. Both of them walked o the side of the house and behind it to get to the back door. He’s been told that the staff couldn’t use the front entrance because they were for guests. Bucky couldn’t understand the wealthy people’s way.  
The kitchen was crowded when they got there. Everyone was excitedly talking over each other and Bucky watched the proceedings with amusement and curiosity. It wasn’t all the time that they get to be this chatty.  
“Alright now, everyone! Settle down! I have good news for you!” Helen was saying and everyone immediately turned down their voices. Bucky could see from the doorway that she looked positively radiant. She only had that expression when she was talking about—  
“Steve is back in America and he’s coming home this weekend!”  
Everyone erupted into cheers at the news and Bucky couldn’t help grinning at the excited staff. He’d been expecting that. He’d always been a bit curious about the owner of the house since he heard about him. Helen had been the one to interview him when he applied for the job and she forwarded his profile to the young master for approval. It must have been accepted because he was hired and now he was curious about the man who evoked this kind of reaction to his household staff. They talked about him often to him and he only heard good things about the man. Bucky was the stranger in their midst because these people have worked in the estate throughout their lives. But they were gracious enough to let him near their space. This place was home to them, no matter the grandeur, and now Bucky was generously given his own space in it. It was heart-warming.  
The next days were busy and lively. The house was buzzing with energy and Bucky was endlessly amused with the cheerful attitude of everybody. Cynthia, one of the housemaids was even humming while she dusted the bookshelves in the library. She hated dusting and often nagged about it to anyone who would listen. It was all so peculiar.  
Bucky thought Philip was the only one to keep his cool about the master coming home. He only smiled when he heard the news. But when the weekend came, Bucky had been surprised to see him up and about the kitchen first thing in the morning. When Bucky handed him his medicine, he took it without his usual grumbling and possibly hummed on his way out of the kitchen. Bucky had stared after him with a frown.  
Helen was laughing at his slaw-jacked face and he turned his confused look at her.  
“He’s happy, that’s all. No need to look so worried.” She chuckled. “Are you excited to meet him?” Helen didn’t need to elaborate on her question.  
Bucky grinned at her and nodded. “Have you seen the place? I don’t think I’ve seen it so clean and spotless. Everyone’s excited.”  
The woman beamed. “It’s just been so long since he came home. We missed him around here. He’s been so busy after Sarah passed away but he loved this place and made sure to visit once in a while.” She smiled fondly at the memory.  
Bucky had finished his tasks on the gardens and went to see the horses that afternoon. The owner of the house was expected to arrive before nightfall so he wasn’t worried about missing his arrival. The stable was free from all the tension going on in the house however positive and Bucky found it comforting. He decided to stay there petting the horses to escape for a bit.  
He quickly lost track of the time fixing the saddles and before he knew it, it was well into the evening. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he’d missed the arrival.  
Bucky had been excited to meet the man, yes. But he didn’t think he could handle all the commotion he’s sure would happen. He was better, sure, but he wasn’t exactly fixed.  
He finally made his way to the back door of the house when he deemed it safe to return without anyone noticing he was missing.  
The kitchen was loud and lively when he came in quietly from the doorway. Everybody was there and chatting cheerfully with each other. At the center of it all was a blond man with handsome features and bright blue eyes. He was listening to Philip, of all people, and smiling the whole time. Nobody seemed to notice when Bucky slipped inside and he was relieved to take a seat at the end of the table.  
“Bucky! Look at what Steve got me!” Janet was beaming at him, oblivious of how he appeared all of a sudden and showed off her ears. Bucky didn’t have an eye on jewelries but it wasn’t hard to guess that the earrings were expensive. They were beautiful golden sparrows.  
“Those look pretty on you, Janey.” He smiled and the girl preened at the compliment.  
Bucky was listening to her talk about the dresses that she would pair them off when he felt eyes on him. He glanced around the table and found curious blue eyes looking at him. The man was still smiling and he appeared to be listening to Philip with his nods but he was throwing Bucky curious looks.  
Bucky didn’t know how to handle that. Janet didn’t seem to notice Bucky’s brief eye-contact with the master of the house from across the room and Philip was clearly intent on his monologue about something. Nobody in the room appeared to have noticed their strange exchange of curious looks.  
The man flicked a look at him again and Bucky met his eyes for a few seconds before giving a small nod in acknowledgement. The man blinked once before the smile in his face widened. Bucky gave a small smile back before turning his attention to the girl in front of him who hadn’t broke in her discussion about fashion statements, ignoring the feeling of being watched.  
***  
The next few days were, for the lack of a better word, strange.  
Bucky still followed his routine and did his job at the greenhouse; only he always seemed to run into the master of the house quite often. Bucky thought that being the owner of the house meant sitting back and letting the staff tend to him hand and foot. Steve was different in every sense of the word.  
He didn’t let anyone tend to him. Just like everyone in the house, he came down to the kitchen for meal times and helped Helen on the dishes. For a billionaire, he seemed very normal. Frankly, Bucky had been disappointed. The image he had of the man had been haughty and high-class like the rich guys he saw on movies. Steve was very normal. The only thing that fits with Bucky’s imagination was his physicality.  
Steve was very hands-on with the proceedings in the house. The staff didn’t seem to mind their master’s behavior and Bucky was probably the only one to get a wrong picture. He’d always thought wealthy people were different from commoners like him.  
Then he would give Bucky these undecipherable glances sometimes when he thinks Bucky isn’t looking. He could feel it on the back of his neck, lingering gazes that he tried very hard to ignore. He doesn’t succeed.  
***  
“Bucky! Tom!”  
He pulls his head out of the hood of the pick-up truck he was helping Tom fix and from the doorway of the garage were Gareth and surprisingly, the young master with the perpetual smile on his face. Tom slid out beneath the truck and quickly straightened to stand, grinning at the two.  
“Well, I’ll be damned. Steve Rogers in my garage. What do I owe the pleasure?” Tom said sarcastically and Bucky watched the exchange in apt attention.  
Rogers was chuckling, shaking his head briefly and stepping to hug the older man. Tom was filthy, so was Bucky after hours of working on the engine, and the blond was looking pristine with his casual clothes. It was interesting to see the contrast but nobody seemed to mind anything. Bucky was completely fascinated.  
“I’m going to town today. You got a car besides the Rover?” Steve asked when they pulled away.  
Tom frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”  
Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine. But I’m on vacation. The Rover attracts unwanted attention.”  
Tom was nodding and glancing at the said automobile. It was glorious, and like what Steve said, not exactly subtle. Bucky drove a car like that before and he hated it.  
“Well, you could take the Honda?”  
Bucky was grimacing and before he could school his expression back to neutral, Rogers was glancing at him.  
“What’s wrong with the Honda?” He asked, directly addressing Bucky. Tom and Gareth looked at him.  
He sighed, already weary to explain. “It’s…not for you.”  
Steve frowned at him. It was the first time Bucky saw him frown. It was a nice change.  
“What do you mean?” Tom asked, raising his eyebrow at Bucky, curious. Gareth looked equally curious.  
Bucky pointedly looked at him and shook his head. “Tell me you honestly want him to take the thing. Look at him.” He tipped his head to Steve’s direction without thinking, but the man seemed amused with the exchange.  
Tom’s frown was lighting up in understanding, glancing at Steve and looking him up and down. “Yeah. I guess not. I wasn’t thinking, sorry.”  
If Steve was offended at the way they were talking about him, he didn’t look it. Instead, his blue eyes were bright with amusement.  
“Okay then. I’d really like to see this thing now. It can’t be that bad.” He said, grinning boyishly and Bucky grinned right back.  
Tom led them further to the back of the garage and into one of the storage. Bucky dabbled a little in mechanical engineering at college. The Rogers’ Estate had a dozen cars, all of them worth a fortune each. It was heaven.  
Bucky was looking right at Steve’s face when Tom slid open the door. He saw the exact moment it widened with horror and he looked at Bucky, scandalized. He couldn’t help a laugh out of his mouth.  
“Well, it really isn’t for you.” Tom said, looking over the bright yellow contraption. It was a good car, standard issue but a 6 ft tall man like Rogers, like the rest of the population couldn’t be caught driving it. Bucky’s eyes were watering just looking at it.  
Steve was laughing and it took a second for Bucky to notice he was smiling back at him.  
***  
Philip was back to normal a week after the young master’s arrival and Bucky’s days slowly diverted back to his routine with small adjustments to the man of the house.  
Bucky was busy shoveling hay into a mound in the stables one afternoon when he heard a brief knock on wood. He glanced up and Rogers was standing at the entrance with his knuckles on the door. He was smiling, as usual.  
“Hi.”  
Bucky wiped his forehead with a towel and straightened to face him. “Hey.”  
The man’s smile widened and he stepped inside the door, his eyes roaming the interior before landing back on Bucky. “So, you’re not just a mechanic then?”  
Bucky raised an eyebrow at that and shrugged. “I help out wherever they need me. But officially, I’m the gardener.”  
Steve was nodding, walking further inside the stables and stopping a few steps in front of Bucky.  
This wasn’t the first time they’d actually spoken to each other but Bucky doesn’t know how to act around him. Aside from the fact that he was his boss, Bucky was developing an unhealthy crush towards the man and he doesn’t really want to know how to handle the situation.  
Blissfully unaware of Bucky’s internal freak-out, Rogers had the gall to up his thousand-watt smile and step even closer to his space. Bucky wasn’t sure he was aware of the movement but nevertheless, stayed still as if the man wasn’t an inch away from stepping on his toes.  
“Helen sent me to get you. She said dinner’s ready.”  
Bucky was painfully aware of the way his hands curled on themselves, gripping the handle of the shovel in a tight grasp. He was aware of Steve’s body heat at this proximity and how his breath was warm, close enough to feel on Bucky’s cheeks.  
He cleared his throat and nodded, looking down on his boots to avoid those blue eyes. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there. Thanks.”  
Steve—no, Rogers didn’t seem to notice Bucky’s discomfort and offered to keep him company while he was cleaning up the rest of the manure. He didn’t seem to mind the smell of the animals and the barn in general. Which was an addition to the oddity of Steve Rogers. Rich people were incomprehensible in Bucky’s opinion. Or maybe Rogers’ was just an exemption.  
Bucky had so many questions but like always, he kept it all to himself.  
“So,” the man says as they started towards the main house together. “Bucky?”  
Bucky raised an eyebrow at the questioning tone of the man. “What about it?”  
“Your parents named you Bucky?”  
Bucky could hear the laughter in the man’s voice and knew he was being teased good-naturedly.  
“It’s actually James Buchanan. My younger sister gave me the nickname. Now, I’m Bucky forever.” He explained.  
“You have a sister?” He looked delighted by the information.  
“Three of them, actually. Rebecca, Mandy and Julia. Becca was the one who invented the nickname.” Bucky doesn’t know why he shared the info, but shrugged it off, seeing the blond grin at him.  
“I like it. It suits you.” He said, rolling the name in his mouth and testing how it sounds on his ears. Bucky had to swallow hard at the sudden dryness of his throat. His mind was actively playing scenes of how many more ways Steve could say his name.  
Rogers was smiling at him and Bucky smiled back albeit tightly, reaching the door to the back kitchen. Both of them shuffled inside and Helen looked up from where she was stirring a big pot that he suspects to be curry judging from the smell of the room.  
“Go take a seat, Steve, honey. Bucky, go wash your hands.” Helen barked at them, turning around to stack plates on the table.  
Both of them shared a look before complying with the orders. Arguing with Helen simply doesn’t end well for anyone and Bucky suspected she had Rogers on her thumb. That wasn’t hard to believe, given how she could look at Bucky and make him feel like he’s twelve again.  
When he went back to the table, Rogers was sitting with his hand on the next seat beside him. Bucky was about to cross to the other available seat when he felt Rogers eyes on him. He made a mistake of glancing at the man and he was leveling Bucky with this look. Evidently, Bucky took his seat beside him with the back of his neck feeling warm.  
He glanced at the man and he had a smug look on his face that Bucky wanted to punch and simultaneously want to kiss. God, he hoped he wasn’t so obvious.  
He felt the man shift beside him and suddenly their shoulders were touching. That point of contact between them remained throughout the whole dinner and Bucky might have leaned into the touch a few times. If the other staff on the table noticed their proximity, they didn’t show it.  
Dessert was apple pie and Bucky devoured his in five bites. He looked at his plate and up to see Rogers grinning at him and promptly refused to blush. To his surprise, the man nudged his plate towards him, his pie half-finished.  
“Uhh, I’m fine.” He said, looking at his empty place, embarrassed.  
The man chuckled beside him, reaching for his empty plate before placing his pie in front of him. Bucky bit his lip and eyed the man sideways. After a moment, he picked up his fork and sliced into the pie. He could feel the beam of Rogers’ smile even without looking at him.  
He doesn’t really know what’s going on but whatever it was, how much harm can it cause him? He’s been to war, and he’d like to think he could handle someone like Steve Rogers.  
…right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this might be jumping the gun but I couldn't resist. Tell me what you think in the comments.

Bucky could handle someone like Rogers. He was a soldier, he survived war and he was a hardened man who wouldn’t fold for anything.

 

Except maybe for Becca. Or Helen. Maybe even Phillip.

 

Beth was visiting from University and had texted Bucky to pick her up at the nearest airport on Thursday. She didn’t grow up at the estate like everyone and only visited twice a year to check on her grandfather. Bucky had a few video chats with her every month and it was like having a CO to report to again.

 

It was almost Christmas and the chill was making his work on the greenhouse a bit tedious. Fortunately for him, the greenhouse was equipped with state of the art facilities and the potted plants were going to stay safe. The plants outside would have to give in to the season but at least, the indoor plants would survive. The winter trees would be the only surviving greens on the cold outside.

 

He considered going back to Brooklyn for the holiday but his family would probably be more stressful than he could handle.  
And there was Steve Rogers to consider.

 

After that dinner, Rogers seemed to take interest in Bucky’s endeavors, which he absolutely doesn’t know how to handle. He hovered around Bucky a lot. He always sat beside him during meals and liked to bring him food when he was working on the greenhouse. It was oddly endearing, having him around.

 

The first time he offered to help, Bucky had glared at him before he could stop himself and he backed off. Sometimes, Rogers could be an idiot. Then he would disappear into his quarters for hours every day and Bucky could only assume he was working. But at meal times, he would always be at the staff kitchen sitting next to Bucky.

 

Then one night, he didn’t come down and Bucky had frowned at the empty seat beside him.

 

“Oh, right. Steve has a guest tonight. He won’t be eating with us.” Helen explained when she noticed his expression.

 

Right.

 

He nodded and tucked into his food, deliberately ignoring Helen’s gaze on him. He finished his food methodically, ignoring the slight pang of disappointment on his chest.

 

He wasn’t sure what woke him that night but his throat was dry as he sat up on the bed and he was clammy with sweat. He silently went on his way to the kitchen for a glass of water and frowned when he saw the nights were on.

 

He went inside and was startled to see Rogers on the counter, slicing something from the looks of it. He must have made some noise when he came in because the man raised his head and met his eyes.

 

“Bucky?”

 

But Bucky was staring at his naked chest, taking in his pink nipples, his massive shoulders and his fucking abs.

 

He met the man’s eyes and abruptly looked away in embarrassment at getting caught staring. He cleared his throat, remembering why he came to the kitchen in the first place.

 

“I was just gonna drink some water. But uhh, sorry, I’ll come back later.” He was about to turn around when he heard a shuffle and a yelp, then some clattering of pans. It was so loud; Bucky had flinched at every sound.

 

“Goddamnit, ow!”

 

When he looked over, Rogers was crouching down beside the counter, his body curled in on itself. Bucky was instantly at his side, gripping his shoulder and turning him. He was clutching at his foot, his eyes tearing up squeezed shut and Bucky wretched his hand from whatever he was covering up.

 

His toe was red. 

 

He stubbed it, trying to round the counter in a hurry.

 

Bucky looked at the man crouching in front of him and he snorted. Then laughed loudly.

 

Jesus Christ, this guy was an idiot.

 

When he was done laughing his ass off, Rogers was looking at him, his eyes soft and a smile tugging on his lips.

 

“I should’ve stubbed my toe earlier if I knew it would have that kind of reaction.” He said his voice soft and Bucky really should pay attention because before he knew it, Rogers leaning over and was kissing him.

 

It was a brief and chaste kiss; Rogers pulling back after a second, looking at Bucky, his eyes wide and glassy.  
Bucky’s heart was slamming on his chest, he could feel his lips tingling and darted his tongue to chase the taste of the man’s lips on them.

 

He hears Rogers’ suck in a breath and sneaked a look at his face. He was looking at Bucky’s mouth very intently, leaning in and parting his lips. His hand cupped Bucky’s cheek and suddenly, Bucky was being kissed very thoroughly. Huge hands slid into his hair, cradling his face gently and then Bucky was drowning.

 

Bucky had been kissed before. This wasn’t like anything he remembered. Rogers was a phenomenal kisser. His tongue traced Bucky’s bottom lip, teasing its tip inside his mouth before using his teeth to tug at his bottom lip. A small moan escaped Bucky and the blond seemed to take that as a cue to slip his tongue inside his mouth.

 

Suddenly, the kiss was wetter, dirtier and Rogers seemed to have made it his mission to rip sounds out of Bucky. His moans were loud and he would be embarrassed if he wasn’t so busy sucking on Rogers’ tongue.

 

“Jesus, Bucky.” He panted, diving in to suck on Bucky’s bottom lip. “You taste so good.”

 

Bucky was panting into the man’s mouth, his legs wrapped around his waist and his hands clutching on his perfectly muscled shoulders. He was sitting on the counter, the man standing between his legs and he couldn’t even remember standing up.  
Rogers pressed kisses on his jaw, his cheeks, his eyelids before kissing his mouth again. He doesn’t know what’s going on anymore. The structure was crumbling and he couldn’t care less. He just wants to kiss the beautiful man’s mouth forever.

 

Then he was mouthing down on his throat, dragging his nose in a strangely animalistic way on the side of his neck and using his teeth. Jesus, Bucky can’t remember being this turned on in his life.

 

Then from out of nowhere, he was hearing footsteps coming into the kitchen. Like a bucket of ice pouring on him , he was aware of what was happening, his legs wrapped on Rogers’ sides and the man himself mouthing on his jaw. Bucky was breaking away from the blonds’ hold on him, his hands slipping out of Bucky’s shirt—when did he manage to do that?—and pushing on his shoulders to hop down the counter.

 

The footsteps stopped at the entrance of the kitchen and Bucky was in front of the fridge, across the room from the disheveled blond, who had a look of confusion on his face, his hands hanging in front of him, as if he couldn’t figure out why Bucky was over there.

 

“Steve?” A voice, who couldn’t be anything but feminine, was speaking. Bucky could barely hear past the loud thudding of his chest and he shakily grabbed on a bottle of water from the cupboard.

 

“Peggy, what are you doing out of bed?”

 

Bucky raised his head and the woman on the doorway was looking at him with questioning eyes. He took in her sleep-ruffled state, and realized she was gorgeous, with her dark eyes and curly hair.

 

“I was looking for you. I was promised sandwiches but I can see you were…distracted.” She said, flicking her eyes at Bucky who dropped his gaze hastily.

 

He cleared his throat, tightening his grip on the bottle on his hand. “I was just leaving. Sorry to disturb you.” He couldn’t quite look at Rogers in the eyes, looking instead on his left before stepping towards the door.

 

He nodded briefly at the woman before striding past her and out of the kitchen before Rogers could say anything. He walked back to his room, locking the door with shaky fingers before collapsing on his bed. He expected to be up all night with what happened but he was out like a light before he could even process everything that happened, leaving the problem to be dealt with by his future self.

 

***

 

Bucky was good at procrastinating. In fact, he was so good, he managed to avoid Rogers for a whole week successfully. Picking up Beth at the airport and staying in town for a day before heading back to the estate was the perfect excuse.

 

After that night, Bucky had replayed the scene in his head for a millionth time before he was convinced that it was in fact Steve who initiated the kiss. But what that meant was something Bucky wasn’t ready to deal with. Sure, he was attractive. But sex wasn’t really something he took lightly. A tumble on the sheets for a night was appealing for him, but as much as he’d like to jump a man like Rogers, he was terrified. Being in a relationship was not in his agenda when he went to work for the estate and certainly not with his boss. Christ, everything about the situation was ridiculous.

 

Just thinking about it made his head ache and his senses in shambles. He was a romantic, sue him. He’d already resigned himself to a life of solitude after he got home from war. Steve was a beautiful man, he could get anybody he wanted. There was probably a line of men and women at his disposal.

 

He remembered the gorgeous woman on the kitchen and promptly ignored the pang of disappointment on his chest. He figured she must have been the guest that came that day. Whoever she was in Rogers’ life, Bucky didn’t want to know. He just had to stay away as far as he can, on the safe side of everything. Any allusions of a repeat of what happened that night, he shoved out of his mind and stubbornly focused his attention on anything but that.

 

Luckily, Beth was proving to be a great distraction. She was bubbly, like their video calls and she could keep a conversation for as long as an hour with Bucky just humming along to keep her going. She wasn’t even freaked out by his prosthetic, which he was grateful for and politely stayed on a topic as far from it as possible.

 

After picking her up at the airport, they stayed at a hotel in town for a night. Bucky called ahead, informing Helen and Phillip of their arrival the next day. The estate had a lot of rooms, Beth even had one reserved for her whenever she visited.  
Beth had magazines with her on the flight and one of them had Steve Rogers on the cover. Bucky had stared at it in awe when he saw it and Beth had beamed at him.

 

“You know him, right? I heard he’s back at the estate. Have you spoken to him?”

 

Bucky looked away, unsure how to answer that. “Yeah. He’s nice.” He eventually said. He can’t very well say, ‘yeah, sure. We even played tonsil hockey just the other night.’

 

Beth hummed. “I’ve spoken to him, like, once. When I was visiting. He’s really polite, always smiling. It was weird, really. You know, he’s, like, a billionaire, right? But he doesn’t act like it. I thought rich people were like Tony Stark, in general. You know, obnoxious and arrogant. But he was really nice.”

 

Bucky looked at Beth, hesitant. “You think it’s weird?”

 

“Yeah. I mean, he’s practically a celebrity. Like someone you admire from a distance. It’s just weird to see him doing normal things like normal people.” Beth says, pulling up her feet on the dash. Bucky would protest but he’s done that a lot too.  
He glanced at the girl on his passenger seat and grinned. Yeah, he’s not the only one who thought it was weird.

 

“He’s really hot, though. I mean have you seen his shoulders? Jesus.”

 

Bucky resolutely kept his eyes on the road and ignored how his face was warming up. His mind flashed into the sight of those massive shoulders under his hands and clenched on the stirring wheel. Beth didn’t seem to notice his discomfort and continued rambling on about the epitome of perfection which was Rogers’ body.

 

“How’s school?” He asked, cutting off her waxing about Rogers’ thighs.

 

Thankfully, she took the change of subject on stride and started on with her complaints about her grades on PolSci 121. Bucky breathed a sigh of relief and hummed along to keep the conversation going, away from the man who tormented Bucky’s mind at the moment.

 

When they arrived at the estate, Helen was waiting for them at the back entrance.

 

(Beth mentioned about the front door thing and Bucky was only so eager to agree.)

 

Helen made soup for both of them. It was late when they arrived and Phillip had gone to bed, despite his intention to stay up to meet them, the staff kitchen was empty except for the three of them. It was snowing outside and Bucky was all too glad to be in the warmth of the kitchen, with Helen’s soup.

 

Beth was exhausted by the time they pulled up for bed, their stomachs full and the warmth making them sleepy. Beth’s room was on the other side of the hall from his and he carried her luggage before turning for bed himself.

 

He was changing into his pajamas when he heard a knock on his door. Thinking its Beth, he opened it and blinked dumbly when he came face to face with Rogers standing outside the hall. In the servants quarters. Steve Rogers.

 

“Hey.” Rogers says, smiling at him with a sheepish look on his face. As if this was completely normal. As if he randomly comes down to Bucky’s room on a daily basis and doesn’t think it’s crossing so many lines.

 

Bucky was gaping at him. “What are you doing here?”

 

The man, honest-to-god, shuffled on his feet and looked at Bucky beneath his sinful eyelashes. “I heard you guys pull up. Helen said you’d arrive tonight. So…um, how was your trip?”

 

“It was fine. Just snowy.” Bucky answered automatically, wondering for the life of him, what the hell is going on.  
The blond nodded, standing awkwardly outside the door. “Good, that’s good.”

 

There was a sound of a door opening outside the hall and his eyes widened in alarm, looking at the direction of the noise. Hurriedly, Bucky was pulling the man inside his room, shutting his door gently without a sound.

 

“What—“ Rogers tried to say.

 

Bucky reached up to cover the man’s mouth with his hand, effectively cutting him off as the footsteps outside padded into the hall and went right past his bedroom.

 

He listened intently, his heart on his throat. How the hell was he supposed to explain the man standing on his door at this hour of the night? The thought of explaining something he himself was completely baffled about was frankly horrifying. The footsteps echoed outside the hall, getting quieter as they walked further until the sound was inaudible from the safety of his bedroom. He waited for a moment, staring at Steve over his hand before breathing a sigh of relief. He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath. 

 

Rogers was staring at Bucky, his back on the door, with Bucky plastered in front of him and his hand on the man’s mouth. As if he was burned, Bucky let go and took a few steps backwards until they weren’t touching anymore.  
He was aware he was blushing furiously and he couldn’t look at the blond in the eye. Okay, he did not think this through. Rogers’ presence was overwhelming in the small space of the bedroom. It was bad enough to be with him in a room full of people. Now, he was here, in Bucky’s room and he feels like he can’t breathe.

 

“Bucky…”

 

The man’s tone was low and as if on instinct, he raised his head to look at him. It was a mistake.

 

His breath abruptly left his lungs at the hungry look on Rogers’ face. He was stepping forward, into Bucky’s space, reaching for his wrist on a firm grip. Bucky was frozen, his ears ringing loudly and his throat drying at the intensity of man’s look.  
The man pulled at Bucky’s hand, his flesh hand, raising it to his face and slowly pressed a gentle but tingling kiss on his palm. Without looking away from Bucky, he took hold of his fingers and kissed them, one by one slowly, melting Bucky with his molten gaze.

 

Bucky couldn’t think, he could only gasp at the feel of Rogers’ hot mouth on his fingers. A shiver went down his spine as Steve nipped on his thumb. Rogers’ pupils were blown almost black, his eyes never once leaving Bucky’s, as he continued to press kisses down his wrist. Bucky let out a moan at the first swipe of tongue on his flesh and then the man was surging forward, sealing their mouths into a searing kiss.

 

Apparently, kissing is a thing they do now.

 

His mind was blissfully blank, his senses zeroing on the feel of Rogers’ firm body against his, his tongue shoving into Bucky’s mouth filthily. It was making him dizzy, clutching at the man’s shirt, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.

 

But god, the man tasted so good. He smelled like clean soap and that musky smell he could almost taste on his mouth. His mind presented him of guy in the showers and he gave a small moan, muffled by Rogers’ mouth over his, punching every breath out of his lungs. The blond panted against his mouth, sliding his hands into Bucky’s hair, tugging it slightly on the side before diving back for another toe-curling kiss.

 

“I’m sorry.” He was suddenly saying, wrapping his arms around Bucky, pressing kisses on his cheek. “I know I probably shouldn’t be doing this. It’s completely inappropriate, me coming here in the middle of the night.”

 

Bucky struggled to concentrate on the man’s voice, his breath hitching when Rogers’ hands gripped on his hips. Like the other night, he kisses Bucky’s jaw, stubbles scrapping over skin, down to his throat. Bucky helplessly clutched at his shirt, rumpling the cloth on his fingers.

 

“I don’t know what’s going on but I can’t stop thinking about you.” He whispered almost reverently on Bucky’s neck, a confession in the dark. “I just had to see you tonight. You were gone and then you were back so I just—I’m sorry. Oh my god, I’m sorry.”

 

Rogers’ hands abruptly left and Bucky swayed on his feet, confused with the sudden loss of hard muscle in front of him, his hands grasping on air. He blinked, clearing his dazed mind to see the blond standing by the door, his hand on the doorknob.  
Finally registering what the man said, Bucky scrambled to follow him. He doesn’t really know what’s going on but letting him leave was a bad idea. Really bad. End of the world bad.

 

“Wait.” He tries, but he doesn’t need to because the blond was turning already. He looked extremely guilty, his eyes wide and pleading. Bucky was getting a whiplash at the complete change of atmosphere.

 

Bucky swallowed. “Just—give me a second to think here.” The way guy looked, it was like approaching an untamed animal, like  
any second now and he would bolt.

 

The thing is, Bucky knows that this is a bad idea. Like a monumental size bad idea. Looking at the man standing in his room, poised to run at any given provocation and his chest ached.

 

He took a deep breath, let it out and assessed the situation in a perspective. Giving the man a reassuring smile, he moved to take a seat on the bed on the center of the room, pointedly leaving a wide space next to him for Steve to sit on. After a moment, the blond shyly followed him and sank on the bed with unnecessary carefulness. It was a bit painful to look at how awkward he was.

 

In a deliberate move, Bucky reached over Steve’s (he’s Steve) hand without looking at him, feeling the way he stiffened at the touch before slowly relaxing his spine. Bucky pointedly ignored the sigh of relief he breathed and felt Steve’s fingers curl to tighten his hold. 

 

It was a very nice hand, so unlike Bucky’s scarred ones. It was smooth and soft, a sign of his status in the society. Bucky took in the fact that this man is a billionaire, the owner of this mansion and technically still his boss. He took that fact in, accepted it and moved on. It was strangely easy to do.

 

The hand on his tugged slightly and Bucky raised his head to look at the man next to him.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked in a whisper.

 

“I think your hand is nice,” answered Bucky automatically. “And that you’re my boss.”

 

Steve blinked at that. “Is that bad?” He asked nervously.

 

“No. Not bad. Just weird.”

 

Steve looked unsure. Bucky tightened his hold on him. “It’s fine. We’ll work on it.”

 

“We?” His eyes were suddenly hopeful and Bucky’s heart clenched.

 

“Yes.”

 

Steve was smiling and Bucky… Bucky knew he was in trouble, as his heart slammed on his chest.


End file.
